Injections
by Founix
Summary: When family life fails and you have nobody to go to, bad things may happen. Kiba has fallen as low as possible, but can he find a way out of the devouring nightlife? The rating is not a joke.
1. The Round and the Circles

_Disclaimer: _

_I don't own any of the Inuzukas. :( _

_But I do own the plot! 8D_

_-Phoenix_

_For Fuzzy_

* * *

**The Round and the Circles**

„Can I have one?"

I nodded. With the unlit cigarette still between my lips, I fingered another one out of the small box swiftly, just to hand it to the girl whose name I had long forgotten. That was, if she had ever told me. I lit both of our cigarettes, then blew some smoke into the already thick and heated air of the small room.

"Just as they had said", the nameless girl said.

"Huh?" I wasn't up for talking. I might as well just get up and get dressed, but I wondered if I would get down the stairs, since I had reached a new peak of getting high on heroine last night.

"They said you were pretty good, Kiba."

I turned to look at her for a moment. Never noticed she had blond hair. Was relatively pretty. What a waste, another damn waste.

"You weren't", I said, just to avoid more talking, and we both took another puff. The truth was that I didn't really remember.

"Asshole."

"Whatever."

The music was still pounding downstairs, and to me it felt as if it was trying to smash my head against the rooftop... half past four in the morning. My cellphone went. By the time it stopped ringing, I had finished the cigarette. Sitting up, I started to get dressed, but it was kind of hard, since this damn floor was just melting away underneath me. Somehow, I made it into my pants and over to the small window, the only window this damned hole had, only containing a bed and a drawed. I opened the window widely and leaned on the frame, while the icy cold air started to surround me.

"Close the fucking window, lunatic", Nameless complained behind me, and I ignored her generously. "If I had known that you were this fu-"

"Would you just shut up?", I asked groaning. As if my headache asked for her blabbing on.

"Excuse me? I'm not the one having sex with a different person every fucking night."

Despite my – pretty true – reputation being spilled, I turned around and walked to the bed, where she still lay in all her smokey puposeless existance, to pick up my shirt and put it on.

"And I thought a Shinobi wouldn't sink this low… oh well", she snorted and started to search for something, as it seemed her underwear.

"You're probably not good at thinking, then", I said and gave a dumb laugh, then swayed over to the door while she was still in the process of dressing. We didn't say goodbye.

Once I had made it downstairs, my rediculously good nose had gotten loose of the smell of sex upstairs and now found things like alcohol, sweat, smoke, drugs and sick. If I hadn't be stoned and full, I had probably thrown up on the spot, but at least nobody tried to call me back or make me stay longer this time. It was one of my favorite clubs… but I needed … well, what did I need? Nearly every night I ended up like this. It had been the weekends since a year, but since October it had gotten ever more often, since I had started with the heroine. Plasters couldn't hide what I was doing to my armcrook anymore.

My mother had hit me for it, yelled at me, shaken me, had even thrown me down half the stairs once when I came home all high. She had tried to talk to me, had made Hana talk to me. Had tried to make me see several doctors. But I was sure, so sure that she didn't understand… it would solve itself.. somewhen.

When I came home, the house was dark. I was so tired, felt so sick, my clothes ranked from the club, and I couldn't decide between shower and bed. After climbing up the stairs slowly and carefully, in order not to overwork my head and body, I dragged myself to my bathroom, undressed and threw the clothes into the laundry basket, before taking the head of the shower. I turned on the coldest temperature possible and let the water run over my head, through my unruly brown hair, until I had enough.

As soon as I was in my room, I got into some shorts and fell into bed, barely hearing the yawn that Akamaru gave in the corner of the room because I had waken him up. I had nearly fallen asleep already when suddenly the door opened a little, and light from the hallway fell onto my face. I didn't open my eyes and pulled up the covers, groaning miserably while the intruder came walking up to me. I felt the matress give in slightly, and my mother pulled my covers away, looking down at me with a deep frown, her eyes so similar to mine – before I could really react, she had gripped my arm and pressed her finger into my armcrook harshly, making me shreak in pain.

"Was it nice today?", she hissed, and I jerked my arm free, staring at her like she was some kind of alien. If only the room would stop spinning…

"I.. uh.."

"Well, you forgot something, didn't you", my mother cut me off, and I could hear the anger vibrating in her voice even in my current state. Her head jerked around, and, following her gaze with mine slowly, my eyesight fell upon Akamaru's huge sleeping form. I gulped; my heart sank below my waistband. I hadn't even brought him home..?

"I.. I'm sorry…"

"Well sorry won't do, Kiba. Not every time. I can't hear it anymore." She gave me another disgusted gaze and got up, only to slam the door shut after she had walked out.

She was right. If anything, it was my obligation as a friend and master not to let poor Akamaru stand in the rain while I went out to get retarded. I was a bad friend, a bad son, a bad brother. If I even _was_ any of those anymore. But I couldn't stop my current life even if I knew that I would have to…

I was sobbing like a child by now, and I crawled out of my bed and over to Akamaru, snugging to him like a blind that would cling to their stick. He lifted one of his huge paws lazyly, and I huddled into his 'embrace'. Rambling how sorry I was inbetween my rediculous sobbs, I could feel my Ninken's tongue lick my neck forgivingly.

But I couldn't forgive myself.


	2. Meltdown

_Help! D8 I was forced to continue this same night!_

_Still for Fuzzy, whom I wish all the best._

_See you on Thursday._

_-Phoenix_

* * *

**Meltdown**

The next day came to take the decision off my hands. I got up only three hours after falling asleep, and my every muscle was sour from sleeping between Akamaru's paws, while my head seemed to try it's best to top that pain.

My mother was already gone who-know-where when I had made it down the stairs – showering that day had been one of my hardest missions lately – so that I only walked in on Hana, who ws already half-way through her breakfast.

Even though I had outgrown Hana by now, she had never quit being my big sister in all respects; Fighting me, scolding me, advising me, teasing me and supporting me. As it was with big sisters, I had no clue what to expect the next time I saw her. But this morning, Hana just put her spoon between her red-painted lips and watched me. She glanced at me when I walked in and while I put food into Akamaru's bowl, while I got out a bowl and spoon, and while I sat down to serve myself from the cereal that she had already placed on the table.

"Have you lost your purse in my face?", I finally asked her, and she finally gazed at her bowl again for a moment, before taking the spoon out of her mouth slowly.

"No, sorry. Kiba… um… I couldn't really avoid overhearing your conversation with mom last n- this morning."

"What about it", I hissed, not at all up for another preach, never mind how much I deserved it.

"Nothing. There is nothing I could add to what she said." I only snorted, and Hana kept watching me warily as I began to eat the cereal in front of me.

"Did she hit you again?"

I wasn't surprised that Hana asked. My mother didn't really care wether her daughter was watching or not when she bashed me or when we faught each other, so that Hana knew very well what was going on. I just didn't like talking about it.

"She didn't. Okay?"

"You're bleeding."

I looked up at her a little startled at that. It was true, now that she said it, I could smell the blood. But our mother _had not _hit me, so what was going on? Before I had found the source, Hana had gotten up and was pressing a speed into my armcrook, where I had been fixing yesterday.

It was nothing like what my mother had done yesterday night – indeed, Hana's hands were gentle and careful, as if I was one of the wounded animals she treated as a veteranian. After she had stopped the bleeding, she pulled a plaster out of one of her various pockets – she always carried those around – and fixed it on my skin. There was an awkward silence. I wouldn't dare to look her in the eye. And what about her? She was probably disappointed…

"Hana, I…"

She shook her head, crossed her pale arms. My mother's skin. I had my father's healthy tan, another treat about me that let him live way beyond his death. My sister turned her back at me and walked over at the huge kitchen window, framed in white wood as if it's beauty was mocking our dark scenery.

"I don't want to know, Kiba. I don't want to know why you are doing it. Why you keep doing it. Why you won't listen to mom, or to me."

She turned back around, and I could see the hurt in her large brown eyes, as if they were direct mirrors of her emotions.

"I only want you to stop."

* * *

As expected, the training with Kurenai, Shino and Hinata went horribly that day. I did not stand a chance against any of them in this state even with Akamaru at my side, and ended up being sent home by Kurenai soon – I had kept the heroine issue a secret in front of everybody – not counting my sister and mother, who found out soon, of course – and thus she thought I was just very ill lately.

I spent the afternoon at home, crying my eyes out, not letting anybody or anything into my room except for Akamaru. He had curled up besides me and was whining as I had my second go today. I didn't want to go tonight. The events had turned to the worse lately, and I felt that the drugs and the sex were eating me up more and more quickly, but it wasn't even ten in the evening that my craving for heroine came back. I felt sick and nervous, and I knew what was up immediately.

I couldn't say goodbye to anybody. Their hurt and disappointed eyes would have given me the rest. So I took my purse and cellphone as every night and went out of the door, while I knew that my teammates were probably going to bed now…

I chose the same club as last night and immediately found some of the clique I used to fix with, so that we got our injections done pretty quickly in one of the darker rooms upstairs. The rush was a relief to me like no other, and I didn't reject as one of the girls of the clique got out of her clothes and unbuttoned my shirt. With my back against the wall I could feel her press against me and lick my skin, and even though the room seemed to have odd colors and shapes, I clung to her and let her tongue wander up, let her kiss me with that taste of smoke and vodka on her lips…

I just felt her hands on my waistband when there were screams and splashing sounds from the hall. The girl didn't stop making out with me, but the curiosity got the better of me even in this high state. I could smell… sick… and something very odd that I had never smelled here before. But what was it.. I had forgotten. I got out of the room swaying rather badly, and had to shield my eyes against the light at first. Two guys were kneeling next to a girl, and her eyes were wide open. The floor next to her was covered in sick just like herself. I only noticed now, she wasn't breathing, and then I recogniced the girl as Melanie and I even identified the odd smell…

It ranked like death.

"Mel", I said alerted and stupidly, falling down and crawling up next to her, while the two other guys were yelling at each other. "C'mon Mel", I mumbled with my heavy tongue and shook her, tried to reverse what had happened… voices..

"She chocked on her own sick…"

"She just gagged, I couldn't help it…"  
"Heroine, I know it was the heroine!"

"Officer, please over here!"

"Come on, young man. There's no use for that." Somebody pulled me back rather roughly, and I nearly fell, but they kept me up. The swimming blue told me that it was a police officer. Girls were crying around me, and some guys were still fighting. The music downstars had stopped, or the sirenes outside were just louder.

"Hey, man, are you stoned?", the officer asked me and shook my shoulder. Without much of a warning, I threw up where I was, and more girls screamed.


	3. Pawprints

_Thanks to all your idle clicks and a special thanks to"hana", for her reviews._

_For __Fuzzy-love__, as always._

* * *

**Pawprints**

The officer braught me outside after this, and I remember that he asked me for a passport after I was done with throwing up for now. He had already threatened me with all kinds of standart things like jail for a night, drug tests or even a week of arrest, but he the moment he read my passport he fell silent. Even though I was shirtless, headbandless, akamaruless and had some puke on me, he still seemed to respect my Shinobi status.

"Inuzuka-san…", he read off the passport, "I don't know what exactly to think of this… but I will bring you home now. I am sure that all of this is just a missunderstanding", he lied nervously, and started to push me down the empty street.

Once at our house, he handed me back my passport, rang the doorbell and started to descend the stairs already. I eyed him dizzyly and horribly confused – only later it was that I understood how he was probably scared by the two dozen dogs that had woken up around us and were doing some warning noises due to his unfamiliar odor. So the poor officer mumbled his goodbyes to me and there I stood without a shirt, ranking and crying. I didn't know wether I was shivering from the December cold or from fear.

It had to be about midnight only, so my mother and sister were probably still up or at least not really sleeping yet. There was light in the hall suddenly, I could see through the glasbrick window, and then the door opened reluctantly. Hana gaped at me, then seized my wrist and pulled me in, closing the door behind me.

"MA! Shit, Kiba – MA COME HERE RIGHT NOW!"

I swayed dangerously, but Hana just grabbed me and sat me up against the stairs, one hand on my back and one on my wrist, feeling my pulse. Then my mother came, nearly flying down the stairs, crouched next to me and cupped my cheek in her hand, turning my head to look at her.

"What happened, Pup?", she asked alerted, and Hana ran into the living room to bring a blanket that she wrapped around my nacked chest, shoulders and back. As I felt her hands, trying to rub me warm gently, and saw my mother's concerned frown while her thumbs brushed the tears from my cheeks, I collapsed.

I reached out for my mother and slung my arms around her waist, and started to cry holdlessly, croaking how I never want to go back to the others, never wanted to take heroine again. I kept repeating how sorry I was and how much I loved them for some odd reason, and I cannot remember anything they said. I only know that my mother held me tightly for the first time I remember in my life, and that Hana rubbed my legs, listening idly. I also told them all about what I had been doing and how that girl I had known had died today, and that I was scared. I was scared not to find a way out anymore, and that they would hate me for doing all of these mistakes.

"Kiba?", my mother said, and I opened my eyes a little to look at her. "You're going to go to the clinic. You will have withdrawal treatment, and Hana and I will support you."

Who was that woman, and where was my mother? I had never really received nor expected any support of hers before, which was actually one of the reasons why I had started all the going out and trying to forget reality. For when I had been drunk or high, there were some glad moments in which I forgot that I couldn't ever do something right in my mother's eyes, or how I wouldn't really have anybody to talk to once I came home… nobody who would be able to talk to me about my adventures in bed, whom I could ask for help.

And now here she was, holding me close to her and telling me that everything would turn out allright if we all helped.

"W-why don't you hate me", I half-whispered and half sobbed, and my mother just pressed me against her harder.

"I could never hate you, Kiba. And I never did hate you. I love you, Pup."

Something wet drippled onto my cheek and into my hair that wasn't my own tears.

* * *

So this was the start of it. An end, an thus a start. My mother and sister brought me to bed that night since I couldn't really walk up the stairs on my own anymore, and I remember my sister staying seated on my bedside until I had finally fallen asleep. She told me all kinds of things, how clinics would not be all that bad and all the things we would do once I was healthy again. It only stopped my crying after a while, but she did the best she could have then.

The next morning, none of them went to train. My sister woke me up at about 10am, and told me that mom was already on the phone, talking to a doctor about my subscription to the withdrawal clinic. After breakfast, she showed me on our map where the clinic was - about thirty miles from Konoha, enough to make me get to the rim of tears again, asking her wether they would leave me all alone there in my week emotional state. Hana just laughed and rubbed my back, asking me wether I had gone stupid; After all, the Inuzukas were and would always be one clan, and nobody would ever get left behind.

And thus it came that my mother arranged an appointment for me to see one of the clinic's psychologists this afternoon. I would already take my baggage, in case they would keep me there right away, and I said Akamaru and Hana goodbye under even more tears. Since the institution was located in the Fire just like Konoha, the town it stood in was also very green and made me feel a little at home, while at the same time it gave me a distinct pressure in the stomache – I was already homesick. The clinic itself was as big as our Konoha hospital, but the hall and front desk we first saw already made clear that this was not just a hospital. The walls were not white, but held in warm colors, and the floor was from a soft terracotta tone. There were a lot of letters and pictures pinned to the wall and windows. I would have liked to look at them, but I didn't get the chance to thoroughly do so and could only catch a glimpse of a pretty ugly caterpillar with big, round eyes, drawn in a very childish way.

"… son's appointment", I heard and turned away from the carterpillar to find me next to my mother, who was already talking to somebody in a white cloak, that wore a little medical emblem on the chest, the one with the embracing sidewinders.

"Hello, Kiba", the doctor said and gave me a friendly smile. I only stared. He scared me. My mother nudged me. "H-hello", I answered, and wished that I would be able to just hide behind my mom. I wanted to go home.

"It's okay, I would be afraid if I was you", he said with a little frown. "Do you know why you are here, Kiba?"

I nodded gently. Well duh, did he think I was a mental retarded? I suddenly didn't feel like going here anymore… they would take me for an idiot..

"Could you tell me what you think is wrong with you, or what you would like to change?", the doctor asked, and I nodded hesitantly.

"I.. I do drugs. I drink too much. I.. I sleep with many different girls", I added lowly and turned my gaze to the floor. The doctor made some notes, then walked up to me and turned my head into my neck gently before looking into my eyes and neck, checking my pulse and looking at my poor armcrooks.

"Your liver seems to already have reacted to all the poison you take", he said patiently. Your eyelids are yellow and your armcrooks are not swelling off easily anymore, as it seems." He walked aroun the front desk and got out a paper that he put down in front of me and my mom, for us to fill in.

The questions were as expected. I had to make crosses for which drugs I had been taking, how much, which symptoms I had had, why I wanted to do withdrawal, and so on. Besides that, I had to give any illnesses or allergies, and sign that I was willing to stay. Mom signed as well, since I wasn't eighteen yet, and then the doctor signed and handed the papers to the secretary behind the desk, who gave us an encouraging smile.

"Come on. I will show you to where you will stay, Kiba. And then we will find a nurse who will look after you." I swallowed and gave my mother an insecure gaze, and then we both followed.


	4. Howl in the Distance

_To Fuzzy-hun..._

_Enjoy the bare feeling. Phoenix_

* * *

The doctor introduced himself as Dr Retter, an unusual name to my mother, and a fatal one in my eyes, which saw him as the figure who was responsible of all the new fear and pain I felt. He led us past the drawings on the wall and through a glass door. This was where I first saw some of the other patients. A girl with a bald head and a guy with cutting marks on his forearms were playing chess in what looked like a kind of living room, equipped with books, games and a few sofas. There was even a group of people watching something on a small TV in the corner.

"We have some more living rooms than this one", Retter said, and some of the persons looked up, including the two playing chess. "Oh, what a nice possibility to get to know some of your new comrades", he suddenly smiled, and I took a step back and glanced around, trying to avoid all of the eyes that were directed at me right then.

"FIXER", somebody by the TV cried and laughed hysterically, and a bystanding nurse came over to him and started to calm him down.

I crossed my arms to hide my obviously mistreated armcrooks, now feeling more than ever like turning around and running away, but my mother had taken her position right behind me.

"Don't listen to him", the bald girl said frowning. "Eddie's always doing that to newcomers." I looked up at her insecurely and gave her a feeble smile, which she returned before Dr Retter asked everybody to be nice to me, which I didn't really care for either way. 'nice' was always relative, most of all for a person in my situation.

Mom and I were led through several more hallways and up two rows of stairs, where we came into a hallway in which all the doors were looking the exact same. He got out a bunch of keys and opened up room number 106, letting us in.

It was a one-bed room. It wasn't like hospital at all. The furniture was wooden and not white at all, and the walls and floor had warm colors. There were a cupboard and even a small desp with a comfy chair, along with the bed and nightstand. There seemed to be plenty of options to set up pictures or little trinkets for the inhabitant, and the windows gave view on part of the health center's garden. The bed was made already, as well.

I suddenly felt welcome.

"So.. do you think you'll be able to get friendly with this room, Kiba?", Retter asked and smiled at me encouragingly. I gave a rather feeble nod, and my mom rubbed my back after putting down my luggage. Retter smiled and adressed my mother now. "You can help him unpack his stuff and set the room up a little, I will search for a nurse who could take him over", he informed her, while I stood stupidly next to them, not knowing exactly what to do.

"You heard him", mom said and opened one of my bags.

I helped her take out my clothes and put them into the closet, set up photos in small frames and a little dog toy Hana had given to me onto the nightstand. We were barely done with this when a nurse entered behind Dr Retter, showing a warm smile. She wore brown curly hair up in a bunch, had rosy cheeks and a few funny wrinkles around her eyes. "This is Ms Derwelt", Retter said smiling, and the woman with the crazy hair and name came over to me to greet me. I held out my hand in expectation, but she completely ignored it and pulled me into a gentle hug, making me gulp. Did she try to make me collapse? All of this was too much for me, and I just stood, hanging my head, not looking her in the eyes.

"Hello, Kiba", she said, seemingly not midning at all that I wasn't returning the embrace nor looking at her. "I am Rose, and you can just call me that, alright? I am here to help you, and there is no restriction in that. You can call me here any time of the day, or call me in the night to talk to me. I will always be there for you, alright?"

Unbelievably for myself, this made me feel better, and I nodded.

* * *

When the night came, my mother had been made a bed for next to mine. Rose explained to us that it was a common thing for parents or partners to spend the first night with the family member in question, because it was very hard to come here for most, just as it was for me. I was very thankful that my mother stayed the first night, because at about 10pm – I hadn't been able to sleep at all – I started to get nervous for the next shot. At first I just rolled around in my bed, but soon it got so bad that I started to shake and got up to pace around, waking my mother up. She made me go back to bed, where I lay cramping and soon crying, while she had crawled in with me and was holding me tightly. But I didn't get better at all. My body gave me total hell, running hot and cold, sick and excited all the time. My mother had long since called for a nurse over the button, and Rose came quickly, knelt next to me and asked me when I had usually had my shots. I told her that it was usually around 10 or 11pm, and she nodded and went out, just to come back – with an injection. My mother was perplex, and spat about what was in there.

"Morphine", Rose explained while I was crying into the cushion desperately. "It has a similar effect to heroine. We cannot just deprive Kiba of everything right away, that would destroy him, it would be torture. We will give decreasing amounts of morphine." My mother didn't say anything other, or I have forgotten it.

Rose took my arm up, but after a glance at my armcrook she just propped me up and pulled the short sleeve of my sleeping shirt up over my shoulder to give me the shot into my shoulder instead. She then let me slide back onto the cushion, and after about ten seconds I started to feel less pained and needy. It still felt like something was wrong, but I stopped to cry and the shivering decreased vehemently. The worst was over for now.

I was too exhausted to keep track of anything happening then, and when I next woke up it was morning. Even though it wasn't very light – it was cloudy and rainy outside when I cast a sore glance at the window. My mother was awake, but still next to me and holding me tight. I cuddled against her and she put her chin onto my head. We lay like that for what felt like seconds to me, but was probably about half an hour. "I'll have to go soon, Kiba… your therapy will start", she told me gently, but I pretended to ignore what she said, until she unwrapped her arms and got up to get dressed.

* * *

When my mom left the clinic, I did everything to make her not leave me here. I cried and pleaded, argued and try to hurt myself. I didn't want to stay here on my own, I couldn't. Why was she leaving me here when it was so obvious that every second here was torture to me? I knew nobody here, had nobody to trust or hug or talk to, even though I knew that they would try to make me.

My mind was rebelling, and I couldn't stop it with any reason. I was as needy for my mother as a two-year old, and even more since I had lost my father at such an early age, and now had only her to cling to.

But Tsume left, because she had to, and because she wanted me to get better. I didn't understand it at the time and went to my room to cry for basically the rest of the day, without responding or replying to Rose, or even Dr Ritter, who tried to check on me the afternoon. Because I had to drink, and because Rose was smart enough to put a light tranquillizer into my water without me noticing, I started to calm down by late afternoon. I had denied any meals, too, and started to feel hungry, but I didn't want to leave the warm safety of this bed, that hid me from everybody else.

The door opened again. I half hoped for it to be Rose, possibly with something to eat, but I could not smell the person out because of all my crying beforehand, and thus was quite surprised at who it was when they stepped around the bed to face me.

"Hello", the bald girl said and sat down on my bedside. I didn't move. "I'm Miranda. You're Kiba, right?" She waited for a reply, but even when I didn't speak she didn't seem discouraged at all. "I've been eavesdropping on Rose, she's been taking care of me once, too… and I heard that you're pretty miserable." She didn't wait for an answer this time.

"Well, I am here to cheer you up", she smiled and patted my arm.

* * *


	5. Pregnancy

_I need to go on._

_For __Fuzzy__._

* * *

**Pregnancy**

„You know, you're not the only one who has a hard start in here", Miranda added with a slight sigh, but then smiled and rolled her eyes playfully. "Most people here don't have such a nice mom, they have to stay here all on their own without anybody to call, from the first night on…"

What was she planning to do, make me feel like a weakling? Make me realise how bad the world is and just be healed? I didn't really welcome Miranda anymore. But somehow she was the first one not to talk to me a in a patronizing, careful way, almost as if I was close to death and not understanding everybody properly anymore. …Or was that possibly the truth? I got scared.

"Why are you here?", I asked, rubbed my nose and blinked up at where she sat on my bedside.

"To cheer you up", Miranda answered wonderously, running her hand over her bald head. It looked kinda creepy, I thought, and then felt disgusted by myself.

"No, I mean.."

Her face lightened up in understanding. "Oh, you mean the clinic! Well, you see, I have a few 'disorders', as they call it. I always shave my hair as soon as it is half an inch long, for example. I can't stand hair. I once shaved my cat, and she didn't like it, and then I understood that I am different… I also used to rub my skin so hard that it bled, but it's already much better now. You know, I am here because I want to. They help me here, they are nice and lots of my friends are here! Remember Akato? The guy I was playing chess with when you came here?"

All of this information was a little bit confusing for me – why would somebody shave their cat? – but somehow Miranda's talking managed to distract me from my self-inflicted depression and hurt.

"Yeah… what's with him?", I asked carefully.

"I cut his hair once, too", she said in a delighted tone. "Oh, and he always tries to kill himself", she added bluntly, as if that was just a pretty unimportant addition to the information about her hair-cutting.

"Poor him", I said, those being the only words I could think of. "Silly him" would be a bit much for somebody in my position.

Miranda shrugged. "The times he's not in the hospital wing, he's an okay guy. He always wins in chess, though."

"Hospital wing..?", I asked curiously, changing the topic. I didn't know this was such a big building… perhaps if I had looked elsewhere than at the ground when I came here, I would.

My new friend nodded knowingly, swinging her legs a little. "They have a medical section, of course. If you get sick or hurt, they will bring you there so that you have doctors around to take care of you. That way you can still be close to the clinic staff and get better quickly." I accepted that bit of information as true – if one went from clinic to hospital and back all the time, it would get much more complicated. But I had more questions for Miranda.

"That cupboard there with the green cross…" – I pointed at it half-heartedly – "That holds drugs, doesn't it..? Isn't that.. dangerous?"

Looking at me a little quizzed, Miranda rubbed her bald head. "Hmm… you're an addict, aren't you? Well I think it isn't a problem. Even if you managed to break it open without a key, there's only minimum stuff in there. Like, one painkiller pill, one for sleep, a tranquillizer… everything in such small portions that you couldn't get high on it, let alone kill yourself. And it's not like Akato didn't _try_…"

I gulped. This Akato guy was kinda freaky. Feeling dizzy, I turned over, groaned and rubbed my head. I was exhausted and dehydrated from my crying, I wanted water so badly… and a pain killer for this horrible headache. I wondered wether that was due to crying, as well, or rather the drug deprivation…

"You're not feeling good, are you?", Miranda said sympathetically and stood up, bowing over me to see my probably pretty red eyes.

"Do I look like it?", I mumbled, and it seemed to amuse her. She giggled shrilly and rolled her eyes with a grin.

"You look awsome, Kiba, just awsome. I bet Rose will want to see." And with that she pushed the call-a-nurse-button, without asking me and in her best mood.

Rose came hurried soon enough, probably thinking that I was having a fit again. "Wha- oh?", she smiled, when she saw Miranda sitting by my bedside. "Have you two made friends?", she smiled, and Miranda nodded quickly.

"I was actually wondering wether I could have some water", I mumbled very lowly, practically avoiding to look at Rose all in all. It was more difficult to talk to her than to talk to Miranda.

"W-a-t-e-r", Miranda repeated aloud and very slowly, as if she was talking to a deaf retard. Rose on the other hand didn't seem to mind, and I remembered that she had been taking care of Miranda once, as well – she was probably so used to her that nothing about the girl seemed strange to her anymore. With a nod, she turned back to the door.

"I will get you some, okay, Kiba? With gas?"

I nodded with a faint smile, and Rose vanished into the hallway, leaving the door open a little. Miranda seemed to be very talkative indeed, starting to talk as soon as it was quiet around her. "You know, I could show you around the clinic later, when you feel like it", she smiled. "I bet Rose will be okay. You seem to be pretty okay to me."

"I miss my family", I answered in a very hurt voice, turning my head away. I wanted to punch myself. Why had I even said that? What was it to somebody as crazy as Miranda was? But I was wrong. Even though oblivious to other people's right for self-determination, Miranda did very well care about others' feelings.

"I know, poor thing", she said as if I wasn't three years older than her, and stroke my hair. For a tiny moment, I enjoyed it – not feeling attracted, but _safe_.

It was already close to 6pm when I first left room 106. I had been handed a key of which the nurses had a copy – that was to prevent people from shutting themselves inside their rooms and commit suicide before anyone could have opened the door. Since Miranda had not yet been allowed to show me around, I was guided to the cafeteria by Rose, who seemed to try and distract me from my newfound homesick depression.

"For every meal, you get to chose one sort of meat and two sorts of vegetables. Many people come here with deficiencies, you know", she told me with a serious frown, giving away exactly what she thought about my own deficiencies. "So I hope you do like vegetables…"

"I hate them", I stated stiffly, crossing my arms to indicate that there was no discussion possible. However, I had understood that I was going to be forced to eat veggies, too.

Once in the dining room, Rose left me to my destiny. The middle-sized room seemed to be a hybrid from a school cafeteria and a hotel restaurant, with comfy seats around long wooden tables and the modern kitchen counter in the back. There were posters about healthy nutrition and pictures of fruit on the walls, and the light was pretty bright. I couldn't decide whether or not I liked this room.

Some patients had already gathered in small groups around the tables, talking idly, while others were just getting their food. I took up a tablet and got myself a small plastic bottle of water (for obvious reasons, there was no glasses) before proceeding to the nurse who served the food. Since the pork smelled of best quality to me, I chose it as a meat and carrots and beans as vegetables – they would be easiest to "lose" under the table. I made my way directly to the last unoccupied table, intending to eat as quickly as possible in order to get rid of these strangers around me, most of whom were probably insane. I only looked up when a faintly familiar odour sat down right next to me.

"Kiba, right?", Akato asked with a nod, and I returned it more or less startled. "Miranda told me. I thought you would like some company." And thus, I made friends with Akato. The trust he had in me, reflected in telling me his whole story of life, really made me feel a little more at home for a while. It was only half an hour until after I had finished the meat that I left my veggies and Akato behind – it was time to call my family. I was given half an hour, and in this eye blink of a time I talked to Akamaru, Hana and Tsume, crying most of the time despite their words of sympathy and consolation. They tried, but it didn't help – after hearing their voices, my homesickness had gotten worse.

When my next seizure came about an hour later while I sat in bed reading, it hit me harder than the last one, making me cramping up and screaming and being sick into the dustbin. It only lasted two minutes because a healer had reacted quickly, injecting my morphine dose and ushering me back to bed after drinking half a bottle of water. The dustbin was emptied and I got my arm rubbed until the fit wore off entirely, so that I fell asleep in the bed beneath my pictures and my longings all alone for the very first time.


End file.
